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worldoftom · 2 years

Text

Balcony High Club [18+]

words » 10.7k

verse » Fantasy & Putts [18+]

pairing » roommate fwb actor Tom x fem reader

warnings » all smut, explicit warnings under the cut

disclaimer » this story is 18+ ; unsuitable for minors

b’s note » can be read as a standalone as long as you fully understand that fv!Tom has been begging for this since day one :D

fantasyverse masterpost | main masterlist

explicit warnings » sex on a balcony with a couple of mentions to the neighbors watching, but we don’t know for sure if they are, teasing, dry humping, dick licking, kitten kink (ish), the return of the Third Belt™, unprotected piv intercourse (don’t try that at home!), Tom gets a little rough but nothing extreme, there’s a slut or two, creampie + cum play (hi it me :D), and I think that's it!

~ ⛳️ ~

Today is a big day.

You are officially moving out of the flat that has been your home for almost a couple of years.

By now, there are only a few things left to move to the new house. There’s a last moving truck that one of the twins will be picking up after lunch to sort it out. After that, it will be time to settle into a whole new place.

You’re excited about this move. The people will be pretty much the same, except more, and thankfully Tom communicated a clever decision regarding your and his accommodation that has left everybody thrilled about it too. He decided to save the full bed and bath suite on the upper floor of the house for yourselves.

Tom also told you the initial idea had been that you would move into that part of the house. It’s separated from the other rooms, where the boys would stay, Tom included. An idea that you had refused to listen to because you were angry at everything and nothing. A million apologies would never soothe the ache in your chest whenever you think about what you should have listened to that fateful morning.

Water under the bridge, he called it before he placed a soft peck on the corner of your mouth, but not to you. Not yet at least.

For now, the thought of having a bit more privacy sounds good. For you and Tom, but also for every other roommate. It should be pretty great. Especially considering the limitless sex drive you seem to share.

Giggling softly at the thought, you stop in the middle of what used to be your bedroom and stare at the only piece of furniture left to transport out of here. Okay, there’s a couple of bags in it with a few clothes you left for last, but that’s it. It has been sitting in the corner of the room for a while now, practically forgotten, but now that you’re faced with it and with the truth it hides, you prop your hands on your hips and consider its future in your life.

There are steps in the hallway outside, and soon Harrison’s voice asks, “Need help with anything in here? Oh, I suppose not.”

“Yeah, there’s just… this,” you trail off in response, still analyzing every detail. Harrison mumbles something imperceptible and seems to move away, so you say, “It doesn’t look too bad, does it?”

“What doesn’t?”

You point at the piece of furniture in front of you. “Your chair.”

Harrison walks in and stands next to you. You can sense the rigidness of his muscles from where he is despite the slight distance. His eyes follow yours, but he immediately looks back at you. “No.”

“What?” You laugh. “I just said it doesn’t look too bad,” you say, leaning in to smooth a hand on the pretty fabric of the seat. You remember Tom sending it to a restoration store in town to get the cover replaced by something new, clean and prettier. But when it came back and you placed it in the usual spot by the glass window in the living room, Harrison barricaded your bedroom door with it and added a note that read, No thanks. Ew. At the time, you thought he was overreacting, but kept it just the same. Tom bought him a new one the next day, which is now waiting for Harrison in the new house with a big bow and a proper apology.

“The stain is gone, nobody will even know what—”

“But I know the truth,” Harrison practically hisses. “That’s my problem.”

“Well, maybe this’ll teach you to leave my condoms alone.” When you look back at him, his face makes you laugh. It holds a funny slash disgusted slash horrified expression. “Unless you want to throw away every piece of furniture in this flat.”

“What?” He widens his eyes at you. “Please, please tell me you’re joking.”

With another laugh, you pat his shoulder condescendingly. “You don’t wanna know.”

“Fuck you,” he says. Still he grabs the two bags from the chair and offers to take them to the living room, adding, “Consider this chair a peace offer. Use this one and leave every single other chair in the house pristine clean, all right? No hairy butts.”

“Deal, no hairy butts,” you accept his offer, extending your hand so you can shake on it. He can’t return it obviously, so you grab his wrist instead and give it a symbolic flick. “But knees are okay, right, like doggy style?”

“Fuck no, are you kidding me?” he shouts in disgust and twirls on his heels. “Tell Tom to keep it in his panties.”

“C’mon, Harry, as if you’ve never fucked anyone in this chair…”

He stops in his tracks. You wiggle your eyebrows in an amused way when he turns his head to chastise you. Except he never does. He keeps his mouth shut, the guilt in his gaze telling you enough.

“You sure you don’t wanna keep it? Surely that’s a good memory,” you insist.

Harrison chuckles and shakes his head. “No, thanks. Keep it. Your stain must have been way bigger. Tom blabbers, y’know?” Your mouth drops open. “Way too much for my liking.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Who?” Tom’s voice comes out of nowhere. Soon his figure appears in the doorway too.

Harrison walks by him on his way out, gesturing with his head towards you. “Good luck, mate.”

“You’ve gotta stop bragging about your dickings, mate,” you tell Tom as soon as his best friend is out of sight. Tom treks closer to you with a grin and a skip in his step, looking almighty in his prance.

“Then you’ve gotta stop taking it so good,” he says in a gracious voice, pointing at the chair, most likely asking you if it should be taken to the living room as well. You nod at him. Though he stops mid-step and turns to you instead. “No, wait, I take that back.”

You laugh. “Figures.”

“I’d rather keep dicking you so good until you start bragging about it yourself.”

“Then you’d better work on your moves, champ.”

Tom gasps. “You did not.”

With a click of your tongue, you peck the corner of his mouth and grab the chair to take it to the living room. This is the last moment it will spend in your bedroom. To be fair, now it’s just an empty room.

You look around, holding the chair in your hands, smiling at the naked bed and the closet with the mirror on the door, and relive a few of the amazing moments you had in here. With or without Tom, recording stuff for your channel, with the van girls when they helped you choose an outfit. There’s tons of circumstances you don’t want to erase from your memory.

“It was a good time,” you muse, mostly to yourself and the room. “Thanks for a good time.”

“You’re welcome,” Tom goads, chest inflated with pride.

“I was talking to the room.”

“Pfft, this room would be nothing without me.”

You want to laugh and slap his shoulder for that comment, but you can’t and okay, fine. In a way, it’s sort of true. Most of the best moments in here were with him, you can’t deny that.

As you stroll into the living room to place the chair with every other item that’s going in the moving truck later, you hear the boys chatting and laughing in the kitchen. It’s the last meal in this flat, you might as well join them now that you’re finished organizing your stuff.

However, you stop for a second once your hands are free. Standing by the double sliding doors, the curtains open and the late summertime sun warming up the room, you glance around and take in your surroundings.

Not much of what was in here is leaving the flat. Tom and Harrison made a deal with the landlord to leave a few items behind that wouldn’t fit the new house, like the couch and the tv cupboard, rugs and others. It’s still a completely different room, though. Feels empty, devoid of life. The memories will stay, and things can sometimes tell stories based on their condition, but at the moment you barely recognize them around you.

In a few hours, it will be someone else’s flat. New memories will fill in the place, give it a new life. That sense of renovation inspires you, as well. You had a good time, hardly any complaints, and you gained more than in any other place before. Friends and a purpose and a boyfriend, and so much more that’s intangible and undescribable. Some good, some bad, but this feeling of leaving it behind and starting afresh somewhere else makes you complete. Change can suck, but for once you’re satisfied with this one.

And there’s no better way to leave a place where you were happy than with a hell of a bang.

The idea starts to form when you turn to gaze outside, the street and view you’ve come to know so well, but there is one thing you have left to achieve in here. Just one. And you happen to know someone who would agree with you on that.

“Hey,” Tom says behind you as he approaches from the kitchen.

And the main star has just arrived.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, just, y’know, looking around one last time,” you say mysteriously. When you turn to face him, the sunlight reflects on his smile and turns his features more delicate than ever. “What time did you say the landlord told us to leave?”

“Seven o’clock,” he says, taking a hold of your hand. It’s something of a new habit for him. You don’t mind it at all. “Why do you ask?”

“'Cause I was thinking.”

He waits a few seconds as you gaze outside, but asks, “About…”

“About you actually,” you say with a giggle, squeezing his hand and patting the back of his with the other. “There’s no balcony in the other house, is there?”

“No,” Tom smirks, eyes peering through the window sort of longingly. “Why?”

“Because there’s something we kinda still owe each other.”

“We do?” He looks positively confused by now.

“Of course we do,” you tell him, sort of laughing at his lost puppy expression.

“I mean, I know what you’re talking about, uh, obviously, hello, but— but you don’t owe it to me,” he says in a reassuring tone. “And I certainly can’t imagine what I owe you…”

You grace him with a humorous smile, leaning into him in case someone is within earshot. “You did reject me a blowjob out there the other day.”

“Ohhhh, that.”

“Yeah. I loved our talk about it,” you decide to comfort him, fingers intertwined with his now. His forgiving smile is just as comforting. “But I still want you to have it, dammit. If I’m doing this, we’re getting the whole shebang.”

“I like the way you think.” Tom seems to agree as you know he would.

“So what do you say? Shall we bless the only room in the house we never stained with your cum?”

Tom laughs wholeheartedly. His smile is off the charts, and as usual he looks incredibly beautiful.

“Though now that I’ve found out that you brag about our sex life to your friends, I’m slightly worried Harrison might know too much about, um, some things like, y’know, his mirror…”

“Nah, don’t worry,” Tom says, this time comforting you. “I would never. Not that night. You looked— mmmm, stunning, luscious, downright fuckable. And some things I do keep to myself.”

You kiss him, straight on the mouth with a little tongue in the mix, thinking back to that night. It started as a joke after a round of golf, a silly exchange of sex ventures you had discussed but never actually saw to life, and the idea of having sex in Harrison’s room came up again. He was gone for a few days, and the opportunity was perfect.

So you grabbed an old sheet and covered his desk chair with it, sitting Tom down on it buck naked with you on his lap wearing nothing but his golf cap, his glove, and Tom’s fingers as nipple clamps. Tom was relentless and insatiable that night. Sat you on his cock and rubbed your clit until you came twice in a row, fucked you from underneath until he nearly passed out from pleasure, and to top it all off fingered you and rubbed you and pressed onto your spot until you gushed out fluids all over him and yourself and Harrison’s mirror. You’d never done anything like that, but the haze in your mind was absolutely unforgettable. You couldn’t wait to try again. Maybe in your and Tom’s new room though. Where no one could be harassed by your mess.

“It was a good night,” you say in a hum, licking your lips as the memory fades. “A little risky and crazy, and somewhat disrespectful—”

“Fuck no!” Tom dismisses your claims. “We disinfected the whole thing, it’s fine. And what Harrison doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

You stop for a second and glance over Tom’s shoulder, examining every corner of the empty room.

“What?”

“Just making sure he isn’t around,” you giggle. “Harrison tends to always be there when we’re discussing something we don’t want him to know.”

Tom chuckles into another kiss. “I guess we’re safe for now.”

“Are you two eating lunch or not?” Harrison shouts from the other side of the room.

“Told ya,” you mumble. Tom closes his eyes in an amusing way.

“We’ll be right there, Harry,” you tell your friend, swatting at Tom’s hands where he has them at the level of his chest making a very obscene gesture.

“You guys are unbelievable,” Harrison scoffs, turning around and mumbling on the way back to the kitchen. “Can’t leave them alone for two seconds, for fuck’s sake.”

“So, now,” Tom says a few moments later once he’s made sure that Harrison isn’t behind him anymore. “You and me, young lady. We have a few loose ends to tie up, don’t we?”

“I believe we do, yes.”

“Wanna do it right now? Everybody’s busy with lunch,” he clearly jokes, though he reaches for the doors on your left and slides one open a little.

“No way,” you laugh, sliding the door closed again. “Sam’s picking up the moving truck in thirty minutes. Unlike you, I do not have an exhibitionist kink, mate.”

Tom chuckles and presses his mouth against yours. “And yet you loved sleeping in my room,” he mutters onto your lips, collecting them into a quick kiss. “The only one with no blinds or curtains on the window, am I right?”

“I liked it because it smelled like you, you idiot,” you giggle.

“Sure you did.” He pinches your side. You pinch him right back. Twice for his insolence.

“Let’s eat something quick and come up with a plan, come on.”

“I already have the perfect plan for our balcony fantasy, love.”

“Your—” you cut him off. “Your balcony fantasy.”

“Of course. My bad,” Tom says with yet another chuckle. He’s been in an incredibly good mood the whole day, and you figure it’s only about to get even better after what you promised him.

“C’mon, we have to tell the boys.”

“What?!” you exclaim, grabbing his wrist as soon as he starts to turn around. “We’re not telling them anything!”

“Relax. I have a plan,” Tom tries to soothe your worries, but it’s worthless because he doesn’t say anything else. He just drags you into the kitchen with a smug grin hanging on his face, eyes twinkling with mischief every time he glances back at you, wiggling his eyebrows in his witty ways.

Once you get to the door to the kitchen, Tom fetches his phone from his pocket and speaks to the whole room. “Do you reckon we can get everything sorted out by four?”

Harrison and the twins blink at his question.

“The landlord said at seven…” Harrison says.

“He did, I know, but he just rang me and asked if we could expedite things and vacate the flat by four o’clock instead,” Tom clarifies. Or rather, lies, but the boys don’t have to know that. It will be better for them this way.

You try not to react too much when you say, “I told him it was a little tight, but y’know…” They all look at you, three of them still puzzled by the sudden change of plans, the other completely elated by how easy you played along with his idea. “Nothing is impossible, right? We only have a few more things to load up into the truck anyway.”

“Sure,” Harrison says. “I think it’s mostly my things than anything else, so sure. We’ll be out by four.”

“Awesome. I’ll text him then,” Tom wraps up, twirling his phone in his hands before he taps on the screen as if he’s typing.

Your phone buzzes on the table shortly after. You tense up before picking it up, but the boys seem unbothered by the coincidental timing. If only they looked up from their food and saw that stupid grin on Tom’s face. Sometimes you swear he’s the worst actor of all time. At least when it comes to hiding his emotions about your intimacy.

“There’s something wrong with you…” you joke with him after lunch. You both stayed behind to clean up the kitchen and pack up the remaining supplies.

“What did I do now?” Tom asks with an eye-roll.

“Uh, this.” You show him your phone that’s still open in the messaging app he used to text you before lunch.

Dick therapy. Balcony. 1600. Don’t wear knickers.

“Sounds like an important appointment. You shouldn’t miss it, love.”

You roll your eyes exasperatedly at him. “How about that stupid happy horny grin you couldn’t wipe off your face the whole time we were eating lunch,” you chastise him, shaking your head at his cheekiness.

“I’m just happy, so what.”

You reply only with a scoff. “Unbelievable.”

“Me?” he puts in. “I’m unbelievable?” You ‘mhmm’ in response as you wrap up a few cutleries and drop them into the corresponding cardboard box. “How about you and this hot bum of yours?”

He slaps you once. You kick his in return. “You’re one to talk.”

“Yeah, but at least I’m damn proud of mine.” He grins. “Oh. And you started this, remember? I was fine moving on from the balcony, but you brought it up. So you can’t blame this one on me.”

You want to chide back and lecture him for this brazen attitude, but you can’t. Not when he’s smiling at you like that. All dazzling and electrified. Like you’ve just turned moving day into fantasy day. Which, well, you sort of did, so you really can’t say it’s his fault. You’ll gladly take the blame for this one. And you’re just as excited of course. He gets incredibly jaunty and smug and hot when he’s like this. And nothing beats the look on his face when you experiment with this kind of thrill. Together. You’re like a drug to him, the same way he is to you.

That’s why you don’t regret any of it.

In fact, as you’re hiding the two bags of your clothes strategically behind the couch so you’ll have a reason to stay behind, a lightbulb lights up in your mind. The afternoon will be pretty damn special, and you need to ensure that the rest of the hours in the flat will be filled with unbearable anticipation for Tom. After all, it’s his fucking fantasy. It should be thoroughly unforgettable. You want him bubbling with excitement all the way until four o’clock because that will make everything even more amazing.

Any time you spend packing up stuff and carrying boxes to the moving truck, you make sure to sway your hips more, to touch his exposed arms when he makes any sort of jokes, to swipe a hand over the small of his back when he has to lean forward to organize the back of the truck and his t-shirt rides up. You send him taunting gazes when he thinks you aren’t looking, and bend over instead of crouching to pick up boxes, and pull your shorts up on purpose to uncover more of your thighs so he’ll tug them back down in front of his friends. You run through all of the clichés, watchful of how the skip in Tom’s step becomes cheekier.

Once you even dip your fingers into an open jar of jam and gasp as though it was an accident, then proceed to lick your hand clean because ‘accidentally’ there’s no dish towel at your disposal.

“Funny,” Tom says before he leaves the kitchen with another box. He sends you a devouring side look on his way out.

By four o’clock, the flat is officially empty save for the five of you and a pack of beers that you’re just about to finish drinking in celebration of having moved out everything on time.

The boys are on their way to the front door when you tell them you’re just going to take a last look around the room, to check if nothing is left behind. Tom stays by the door to the kitchen, bouncing his heel nervously on the floor.

“Oh no,” you fake-gasp with an annoyed click of your tongue.

“What, did you forget something?” Tom asks. The other boys don’t react in a way that you can hear, but you can imagine that they’re standing by the door and looking back to wait for you.

“I left these two bags, I’ll be right back, will check the bedrooms just in case.”

As you move towards the hallway, mostly for the act since you’ve already been there and they were empty, Tom tells his friends, “You go ahead, mates, y/n seems to have forgotten something.”

“Of course she did.”

“Yeah, forgot we have functioning brains.”

“Four o’clock my ass.” Clearly that’s Harry, if the dry tone is any indicator. “Fucking fiends, mate.”

Grumbling to themselves, the boys leave and bang the door on their way out.

“That wasn’t as inconspicuous as we thought, babe,” Tom says with a chuckle. He isn’t wrong.

“Oh well. Maybe next time we’ll tell them what we’ll be doing, see if they like that approach more.”

Tom laughs heartily. “I doubt it. Now, you, young lady. Get your tight ass on that balcony, c’mon.”

“Easy, Tiger,” you chuckle. “I still need to get ready. Why don’t you go wait outside?”

“No, I wanna watch,” he states, moving towards the couch and leaning into the back, arms crossed over his chest.

“Suit yourself,” you shrug. Stretching a hand into one of your bags, you get a skirt that has a bit of flow to it and step out of the shorts you’ve been wearing all day. You put it on normally, Tom’s gaze hot on your legs, then turn your back to him and tug your knickers down your legs.

“As per instructions,” you remind him, glancing at him over the side of your body. His eyes are transfixed by it, by the curve of your ass, his hands squeezing his biceps where they’re bulging out of his sleeves.

Tom giggles, but swallows it down in silence when you straighten back up, a palm running over your ass and lifting your skirt over the cheek, rearranging the fabric right after to leave it brushing your thighs.

“Are you ready,” you ask, turning back to face him. “Or are you gonna be wearing all that?”

He’s wearing a pair of navy blue trousers and a red t-shirt with a logo printed on the chest, which he removes and drapes over the couch in a single, quick motion. “Fucking ready.”

“Awesome. Go wait outside, then.”

“What?!” he gruffs.

“Do it, c’monnnn.”

With a reluctant eye-roll, Tom says, “Yes, ma’am,” but bolts to the double sliding doors just the same.

You wait for a short second, adjusting your skirt and wiggling out of your bra and your socks, and finally take a deep breath. As you peek outside and see Tom settled on a lounge chair, legs crossed at the ankles, hands folded on his belly and his ravenous eyes on you, you follow him out there.

“Hello, sir.”

“Hello, beautiful,” he greets with a grin. One of his hands moves to your leg as he speaks, crawling up the outer side of your thigh with tenderness. Which conflicts with his eyes, famished for something a lot less innocent.

Once his hand reaches your hip and only the wrist is visible under the edge of your skirt, you move out of reach and step further onto the balcony, saying, “Wow, look at this view.”

“Impressed?”

“It’s… stunning,” you say, grabbing the railing with both hands. You study the sight in front of you, the several other tall buildings around, dozens of other balconies just like this, some empty, some filled with plants, so few of them with actual people on them. There’s a particular shadow standing in the building across from you that worries you, but only a little bit. It’s still too far to get any distinct scrutiny over what will soon be happening on this one.

Behind you, Tom says, “I love the view from out here. You can see literally everything.”

It’s not difficult to guess what he means. Through the corner of your eyes, you can tell he’s looking at everything but the city around him. His eyes seem to have frozen on your ass, which is perfectly perceivable under the skirt.

“Oh yeah, I can tell,” you grin at him over your shoulder. “And it’s such a lovely day.”

“Love days like these,” he adds, shuffling where he is. “The sun warms your skin, makes it a little damp. It’s perfect.”

“I feel the same way,” you say, turning around but leaving your hands on the railing, leaning back against it. Your legs are fully on display and you cross them at the ankles to mimic the way Tom is lying on the chair. “Perfect day for an adventure.”

“Would you like to go on an adventure with me, sexy?”

“I would love to, sir,” you reply, voice cracked from the intensity of his gaze as it goes down from your face to your chest all the way down to your middle.

Tom grins and says, “C’mere then,” extending a hand to invite you closer. “Come sit on my lap.”

You bite your lip sheepishly, but nod and approach him with slow steps, your hands behind your back almost in reverence before his figure. This moment feels like an act you didn’t plot but that you’re still putting up together, and it fits in an odd way.

When you reach your destination, you straddle his thighs and lay your hands on his forearms where he has them relaxed on either side of him. Slowly you move upwards to settle on his hips, calculating every inch so you’re centered with his crotch, and immediately start rotating over him.

“Damn, you’re so greedy already.”

“Yeah… curiosity makes me greedy,” you say, a false modesty in your voice. “And I’ve never been on a ride ‘round here, so…”

“So I bet you’re fairly curious about what goes on out here, are you not?”

“Very curious, sir. I’m dying to know.”

“Mmmm, well I might just show you in that case,” he says. Tom lifts a hand to your face and caresses your lips with a thumb, tracing their shape softly as you straighten your shoulders and hum into his hand. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby girl. Can I kiss you?”

You nod slowly and lean forward when he cranes his neck closer. Your tongue rolls over his lips first, waiting for the poke of his to surrender into his mouth, but when it comes, he pulls you into him and takes you into his arms, grabbing you around the waist. Teeth come into play within the kiss, extracting little moans, almost shy, from both you and him while his clutch around your body guides your hips in a deliberate orbit against his crotch. His cock hardening and twitching under your doing.

His hand crawls up under your t-shirt and you pull back with a gasp at the cold dribble of his fingertips. The mischief in his eyes is clear, full of resolve, and so is the lick he gives your hard nipples where they’re poking through the fabric.

“Let me see you,” he whispers. The breath that escapes his nose tickles on your skin.

You stay silent, letting him furl your shirt upwards in a slow, sensual movement. When it’s high enough, you take your time to push it over your head. It’s on purpose so Tom will have a full view of your breasts as you pretend to struggle with the fabric, arms lifted high and your hands out of the way too. He avenges your plan by suckling one nipple into his mouth and sinking his teeth around it. Your hips swirl backwards, chest presses closer into the sting of his bite.

Tom caresses the sides of your torso as he rolls his tongue over your nub in a silent apology, moaning around it as treatment. When you leave the t-shirt on the floor and reach for the hem of the skirt, he lifts his eyes from your chest and says, “No.” Kissing between your breasts, he adds, “Keep the skirt on and touch yourself for me.”

Nodding at his request, you start with your face and your jaw, cradling them sensually, dragging fingernails over the skin to see how it reacts, then descend to your chest, molding each of your breasts once and again, first with one hand, the other and switching them next, spiraling your hard nipples between two fingers until it hurts. Your hips buck forward when his cock twitches hard under them.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, baby,” he compliments gently.

“As are you, sir.”

He shows you a big smile and tweaks your nipples, pinches and twists and squeezes them as he pleases. You nuzzle into his touch and keep winding your hips over him, his erection growing larger at your caress.

“You’re making me so hard, darling,” he says. He reads your mind so many times that you wouldn’t even call this a coincidence. “Can you come like this?”

You shake your head no and laugh a little, saying, “Sorry,” but continue to gyrate your hips in a movement that grows in speed and purpose. He twitches beneath you, skin ridden with a shiver, and that’s the most exciting reaction.

With a smirk, he says, “What a shame. Would have loved to see that while you rub yourself on me like an animal in heat.”

You moan at his tone more than at his words, it crawls up and down your spine inspiring you to dig your nails deep into the hard flesh of his pecs as your hips roll in every direction you can think of. You change them at random to surprise him as much as you can, but it’s clear that it’s working because Tom moans your name on repeat. His eyes are wide and hungry, and one of his hands flies to your waist, the other to your chest where he squeezes your nipples until they pang and the pain spreads through your whole body.

A tug of pleasure in your gut jolts you forwards and you jerk around, pinning your feet to the floor until you half collapse on top of him. He doesn’t let you, however. His strong hands wrap around your arms and he straightens you up on his lap, thumbing hard at the crook of your elbow until you look into his eyes.

“Be a good girl and take these trousers off of me. After—”

You start working on your task right away, eager to lick and sit and cream on his cock, but Tom stops you with a hand around your wrist. “Listen to me first.”

You nod and moan in the back of your throat at his strained voice. His gaze fills with vicious intent as he holds your face with a hand so you’re staring into his eyes. “Say you’re sorry.”

“Sorry.”

“Say it like you fucking mean it, girl,” he repeats in a colder tone, squeezing your jaw between his index finger and thumb.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Good girl. Here’s what you’re gonna do.” You nod and swallow a comeback quip you had in your mind to tell him, appreciating his slightly dominating stance. “You’re gonna take off my trousers. And afterwards I’m sinking my cock down your throat like you wanted. As far as it will fucking go, you hear me?” You nod again and blink to refocus on his hardened gaze. He sounds stupidly hot when he talks like this, or perhaps you’re just stupidly horny for him in general.

He adds, “You said I owed you and fair is fair. And you deserve it anyway.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome. Now pull out my cock.”

You undo the button on his trousers and drag down the zipper, as slowly as his breathing. His dick peeks for attention in the v of his clothes, still under his briefs. You admire its shape and stroke it with your palm, tugging the flimsy material of his underwear downward with your motions. The head is full pink and large and gorgeous when it pokes out, weeping densely at the tip.

“Fuck, see what you do to me, I’m already leaking, darling.”

“Wanna lick it off you so bad—” you say tentatively, but Tom doesn’t seem to disagree.

“What are you waiting for?”

“—but not like this.”

“Then how?” he asks, but you’re already on the move. You crawl out from the chair and kneel on the floor next to it, keeping both legs together and your hands on your thighs. Waiting for him to get the hint. It doesn’t take him long of course. He caresses your cheek and strolls a thumb across your lips, tugging the bottom one lightly until the beginning of a smile forms on the corner of your mouth.

“You want me to stand up,” he states what he thinks you want. You confirm with a nod, eyes trained on him. “All right, if I’m gonna stand—” he trails off with mystery, getting up on his feet and moving around you from behind.

It’s against the railing that he stops, right in the middle of the balcony, his butt pressed against the metal in a position obvious that anyone curious enough could see.

“If I’m standing, it’ll be right here,” he adds, clearing his throat and pointing a hand at his feet. “C’mon, sexy, kneel for me. Right there.”

When you look down, Tom is barefoot and the big toe on his right foot is on top of the other toes like it’s a nervous tick of his. You’ve never noticed and don’t feel like questioning it right now. Rather than, you drag your feet across the floor to kneel where he still has his finger pointed at. Your face hits his hand because he refuses to move, as though he wants you to know exactly where you should stay and not place your body a single inch to the side.

When you look up, a smirk is teasing Tom’s lips and he says, “Say meow.”

You smirk and hum sensually, then without hesitation obey his last order in a drawled out voice. “Meow.”

“Such a pretty kitten,” he says as he toys with your lips, eyes lit up in pure mischief. “But there’s something missing.”

With a hand under your chin, Tom moves your head around and inspects your features, but his gaze suggests he knows pretty well what he plans to do next. First, he positions your head so your eyes will lock into his. Second, lets a string of spit fall from his mouth, watching it fall on the right of your nose. You blink at his actions, but make no other move, waiting for his patience to wear off. Finally, he leans in and drags his tongue across your face, licking it all over until he finds your mouth.

“Gorgeous,” he spews out like a backwards insult, sucking a little more on your lips. You just kneel there and let him take the reigns. There’s nothing else to do anyway. This is his moment, and you’re willing to let him spit on you and lap it up as much as he wants.

“I just figured it out,” he says with a wide smirk, straightening back up on his feet. He smears the remnants of his spit around your mouth, making you wish he would spit into it all over again, just from the intensity of his hungry gaze.

“You need a collar,” he practically purrs. “A pretty collar for a pretty kitten.”

“Meow.”

“Good pussy,” he chuckles, then lets go of your face. His hands move to his belt and he tugs until it slips from the belt loops, wrapping it around your neck without hesitation. “C’mon, you’re wasting daylight.”

You rub your face against his crotch, mouth around the tip where it sits still under the fabric, then yank his trousers down to the middle of his thighs and move his briefs out of your way. As soon as he’s exposed in full, root to tip, you start with kitten licks to stay on topic, but soon take him into your mouth.

Tom sighs happily, almost relieved. You hum around him and suck on the tip, bobbing your head slowly at first to get used to the girth. You’ve done this more times than you can count, and you love sucking Tom’s cock, it’s so fucking pretty and just the right size that your teeth don’t get in the way and the head hits the roof of your mouth when you tilt at certain angles. Not to mention his noises, fuck, they get so eager and keen, those little ah’s and oh’s that leave you soaked between the legs in a matter of seconds.

He groans in the back of his throat, and you watch his hands grip the metal behind him until his knuckles are stressed and the veins pop out on his forearms. He’s only humming, however, so you rub your tongue softly and wetly under the head until he full-on moans, head tipped forward. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

Using little tugs on the belt so your head will bob back and forth, Tom leads the way of this blowjob. All you do is keep your mouth slack and suck on him where you can, relaxing your tongue and your throat and moaning in between to intensify the sensation. He squeezes the belt snugger around your neck and you gag around him, pressing forward because he’s pulling you closer, using a thumb to unbuckle the belt then tighten it even more until the prong slips into the next hole.

Fuck, that’s a little tight, but fuck him if he thinks you’re going to complain. You swallow and take it like a big girl, hollowing your cheeks and using suction on every bob.

“Is this comfortable, darling?” he asks, a hand cradling your jaw almost sweetly. You glance up at him so he’ll read in your eyes that you wouldn’t have this any differently.

The edge of the leather digs into your skin and you’re sure you’ll be struggling for breath soon, but it’s fine. It’s good. You can tell from the wetness that pools between your legs and from the way you’re trembling in anticipation. In fact, you expect him to tighten it even more, almost wish that he would. He doesn’t, but you moan impatiently anyway. Tom makes a clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth, tugging harder on the belt and pulling faster, hips meeting you halfway as you warble around him with a delighted moan.

“Do you think there are neighbors watching?” You roll your eyes in response because first he shoves his dick in your mouth, and then he asks questions and demands answers from you. “Tell me baby, do you think someone’s watching?”

You nod, thinking it’s what he wants to hear. Why else would he be obsessed with sex on the balcony and at the golf course, and why would he sleep with no fucking blinds on his bedroom window? He loves being watched. His career of choice says it all.

“Yeah? I think so too,” he says, observing you diligently as you bob your head at your own pace now. Your tongue rolls around his shaft and you pull every trick in the book to get him closer to the edge, glancing up at him with the doe-est look you can muster.

How the fuck he’s holding it together, you have no idea, but the little fucker continues talking, knowing that tone right on the cutting edge of elation and despair turns you on immensely. “Anyone would have to be fucking stupid to miss out on this view. The city behind me, the glare of the sun in your yearning eyes. That bum of yours in the air like that. Fuck, it’s so pretty. Give it a slap for me, baby, c’mon.”

It’s a struggle because the angle of your neck and shoulders blocks some of your best moves, but you outstretch an arm and smack your butt cheek on the side and on the back, Tom emitting a grunt on the second strike. Fingers trickling down your cleft until you feel the first wet spots of your pulsating pussy. Your eyes roll to the back of your head by instinct when your throat clamps around his cockhead and a string of drool hoards and drips from the corner of your mouth.

“Good girl, good girl,” Tom croons, patting the top of your head. You nuzzle into his touch and hum around him like his good kitten. “Though I’m glad they can’t see this, fuck. You know what I’m seeing, baby?”

You can only moan and shake your head no despite the difficulty. With a hand holding his hip, you bob your head faster as his fingers clasp around the belt, giving it tiny tugs to drive you forward just a little further. He wipes the spit from your mouth and when you glance up, he’s licking his thumb clean with his greedy eyes on you.

“You,” he moans, the sound making you close your eyes. When Tom lifts a finger in a gesture you’ve agreed on to mean ‘focus on me’, you drop both hands to the floor and tuck your shoulders downward to hold steady.

Tom then yanks on the leash around your neck and forces you to tilt upwards, his face crumpled between pleasure and torture as he adds, “I’m seeing you on the fucking door, reflected back at me. It’s so. Fucking. Perfect. Your cunt is all wet and shiny from the sunlight.”

In response, you hum and roll your hips sensually, his eyes following the movement on your reflection.

“Touch yourself for me, darling,” he requests and you obey. “Oh yeah, that’s fucking beautiful. Pretend it’s my mouth, baby. Licking you so good you get all puffy and swollen.”

As you roll two fingers around your clit, Tom hauls you forward until your forehead smacks on his hipbone. You gasp and try to reel back, but he keeps a strong pull on the belt and you can only swallow around him and inhale through your nose the musky smell of his skin. Lungs burning, the base of your fingers massacring your clit, humming like crazy at every tight sensation that courses through you right now.

Tom keeps tugging back and forth until you shut your eyes and shout at the pressure, but he eases back immediately. But you don’t pull away. You just stay there sucking on his head, tongue swirling around the hood, while your chest recovers from the pain.

“You good?” he asks, honestly concerned. His hand on your face and his thumb on your cheek tell you just so. You nod and hum and lick the vein on his shaft to let him know you’re doing okay. “Wanna go again?”

This question is clearly a tease, so you nod and wait patiently for his pull, grasping his hips to brace yourself but letting him do it all over again. It turns you on, there’s no denying it. Your pussy is all wet and clenched around air, stomach churning just as much in its wish to be filled with his cum.

First, Tom pulls on the belt just once, then a second time. You barely move so you smirk around his cock, cheeks hollowed and applying suction, not expecting Tom to fuck hard into your mouth until you’re gagging with it. The sounds and gurgles you emit roll your eyes back into your head and you relinquish what little control you still had over the scene.

His moans getting frantic and wild are impossible to ignore. “That mouth, fuck, it’s so, ugh. Fucking divine. Yeah, gimme your tongue, baby. Fuck, fuck yeah.”

Tom thrusts into your throat a couple more times, snatching the belt so that your nose will press against his crotch. It smells of sweat and pleasure and him, a combination that liquefies your insides and makes them trickle down your quivering legs.

When you pull back for breath, gasping around his cock and nearly biting into the head, Tom holds you in place and nuzzles his palm against the crown of your head. He’s gasping for air, of that you have no doubt, and when you look up he’s crumbling and panting, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

“That was,” he wheezes, “fuck,” struggling for breath as though it was him with a dick clogging his airways. “That was so beautiful, baby. I was so fucking close.”

“Thank you, sir,” you try to say, but it’s faint around your mouthful of cock as it rests on your tongue.

“But—”

He coughs out a moan and pulls out, dick dangling against the underside of your chin.

“Fuck,” Tom says in a coarse voice, straightening up and taking you with him, though you stay on your knees with the belt tight around your neck connecting you to his hand. When he finally faces you again, chest still heaving from the effort of holding it in, you believe, Tom concludes, “That’s not where I wanna fill you up. I want your pussy.”

He nearly spits all over you on that last word, capturing your mouth into a rough kiss. “My pussy’s pussy.”

“Meow,” you tease. Tom smirks, looping his thumb on your bottom lip and kissing you there.

“Turn around for me, baby.”

You retreat from his touch with a cold shiver and move on your knees until your ass is turned to him and you can see the reflection he was talking about in the glass of the double doors. You look a proper mess, ass in the air when you crawl forward to fit before him on all fours, the skirt all askew, your mouth coated in spit and pre-cum, crooked to the side from the shape of his cock.

“Hold on,” he says with a hand splayed on your back. “Should I get a condom?”

You bite on your lip to consider it. You didn’t do any math, and you’re sure it wouldn’t be right, but there are bigger problems in the world. Safety is a concern, but Tom’s been your partner for a long time now. There were never any issues and you absolutely trust him with this, so you say, “I packed the eggs from the tv cupboard into my bag earlier, but honestly?” You turn your head to gaze at him. He blinks back. “I don’t give a fuck today.”

It’s a special occasion anyway.

The smirk dancing on his lips is gratifying enough to tell you this was the right choice. Last case scenario, you’ll monitor your cycle a little closer this month, but it’s not a worry just yet. Not when you’re naked and on display on the fucking balcony that’s soon not going to be yours anymore.

You don’t really have time to worry.

Your back arches when Tom fucks two fingers into you out of nowhere, totally in silence, crooking them against your spot. Tiny sparkles form under your eyelids when you shut them closed. And you’re so fucking stimulated from before that you almost come on the spot.

When you open your eyes, you can see him in the reflection kneeling behind you, pressing his hips against yours to replace the fingers he draws out. His cock dangling in front of him and smudging through your slit and over your clit when he bucks his hips forward. Dragging back and forth like a test drive.

“You want my cock?” he asks. As if there isn’t only one right answer.

“Yeah,” you croak nonetheless, moving along with the rhythm of his body.

“How bad do you want it, kitten?”

Tom holds the tip right at your entrance, pressed so close that you can feel the ridges of his fist where he’s holding himself up.

“Pussy’s starving for it, fuck.”

“Mhmm what a sweet girl. We can’t have that now can we,” he asks, but it’s purely rhetorical.

You wouldn’t have time to answer anyway. Tom slips inside in slow motion, so delicate but with so much intent that he slides up to the hilt in a matter of seconds. The fact that you’re wet all over doesn’t deter him. He’s jammed against your back, hips on hips, skin on clammy skin, starting to thrust little by little.

On the glass, you see his mouth drop open in an obscene ‘oh’ and his eyes are closed, so you know he won’t see your next move coming. You fuck back into him the way he’s always liked. His reaction is as expected. A moan so loud it reverberates through you.

You watch through squinted eyes as his hands hold on to the railing, first one, soon followed by the other, and he stays there kneeling on the floor with his arms wide open in prayer as you fuck his cock, riding it like you’re in charge of his pleasure.

“Fuck that’s a good pussy,” he croaks before a louder moan, and you close your eyes with his cock persistent against your spot. Especially when his hand drapes over the small of your back and he starts rutting into you, multiplying every sensation by a million.

You crumble onto your forearms and glance over one shoulder, wondering how much Tom can see of himself piercing in and out between your thighs.

“I can see everything, oh my god,” he says. Did you say that out loud? It’s possible. After all, your mind is starting to fog and your vision is blurred, imaginary drops of rain clouding it all. “Pussy so tight, holy fuck.”

“Fuck me, sir.”

“What was that?” In his reflection, Tom has placed a hand behind his ear like he hasn’t heard right, hips never still.

“Fuck me, sir,” you grunt louder when he picks up speed, gasping and moaning as relentless as the jabs into your body. Your legs spread open, ass up high, wetness dripping down your thighs and clapping between your crotches.

“You’re a slut for me, aren’t you,” Tom goads. His eyes are closed in bliss, the brutality of his thrusts making you moan and arch your spine and hit your forehead on the ground, taking the blows. “My fucking beautiful kitty slut.”

“For you only, sir, argh, fuuuck.”

“Let’s see if you can fucking take me then,” he growls and grabs you by the shoulders.

Tom pulls out and rolls the belt around one hand and manhandles you with expertise, slamming you face down over one of the lounge chairs and smacking your butt so hard it hurts and your skin feels scorched from the sun.

As for you, despite the position with your side to the door, seeing the summer umbrella on the balcony of a neighbor building, if you glance to your right you still have a view of his reflection, now his profile, and he looks freaking scrumptious. The muscles of his thighs all clamped and tense as he settles behind you, never letting go of your hair.

It hurts a little and the pain hisses behind your teeth, but you gulp it down with bravery and repletion. Feeling Tom fuck his thumb into your pussy, then his index, and when he gets to his middle finger, you’re desperate, wordlessly begging for more because one digit at a time makes you feel absolutely nothing.

He tugs on the belt until your back arches, neck tipped backwards, then jabs two fingers into you all at once, shutter speed controlling his movements. You moan and squirm and almost fucking lose it, but you make the mistake of telling him, “Close.”

And he stops.

With a whine, you slump over the chair. Tom repositions himself and drills his cock into you without remorse, holding your hips with a hand, the other pulling on your makeshift leash. It chokes you so hard your moans become distorted grumbles.

This is it, you feel. This is how you’re going to die. From pleasure and rapture and true happiness if nothing else.

Tom loses his rhythm somehow and his cock slips out of you unexpectedly. You moan in displeasure, jerking back to seek him again, but it takes him a few seconds to recompose and reconnect. But when he does, oh god, the stretch of his length into your walls enrages a fire inside of you and you hump back, mound scraping on the cushion beneath you. It lights you up even further, and you move your hips, fuck back into his cock, grind down and clench around him, the pressure in your gut deepening and coiling up into a lump.

You try to warn him, but there are no words. You come right on the spot. Throat clogged with pleasure, you gasp and shudder violently before all your limbs give out.

“Ugh,” Tom tries to speak too, but gives up just as you did. He fucks into you with greed, moaning and grunting out your name the way you like to hear it. Stuck in his throat, in his hoarse voice, lost in his bliss as your walls encase his cock.

“Squeeze me so tight, love, fuck,” he pants into your ear. Tugging harder on the belt until you arch back into his chest. You croak out what’s supposed to be his name but ends up being a mere yelp of loose letters. “Gonna make me cum, oh, fucking yeah.”

The skin slaps loudly, his against yours, fluids stuck in between and impossible to not distinguish what they mean. If anyone’s watching or listening, sex is the only valid answer.

“Ready?” he gasps, along with little ah ah ah’s of ugly desperation, followed by a guttural moan.

You whine in response, “Yeah yeah yeah, harder, Tom, fuck.”

And he gives it to you. Thrusts like rapid fire. You slumped on the chair, skin chafing on the surface from the sway of his motions. Head fucking spinning around a single image: Tom all curled in on himself, muscles and tendons pulsating on his skin, neck stretched impossibly hot, his whole self yielding as he shouts and shakes and caves, hips uneven but never losing sight of your pleasure spot.

He slumps over you, caressing your skin and calling you love and darling, saying, “Freaking love how you’re just a desperate little hole for me.”

You keep rocking back onto him until he tells you to stop and holds you there, hands on your arms where you have them against your sides. Thighs stuck to the back of yours. Cock buried to the hilt, keeping his fluids inside.

“Always,” he gasps, breathing out a tired laugh. “Always better than the last.”

“Meow,” you say in a meek voice to perpetuate the night’s theme.

Tom chuckles and his chest rattles with it against your back. “What a good fucking pussy. My pussy.”

“Yeah. Yours.”

Tom nods, but neither of you moves for a few minutes apart from his hand that unclasps the belt from your neck. You stop him, enjoying the feeling of having it there. You hand him the leash instead, letting him yank it a couple of times. He may be testing you and you stay put, you don’t protest, all you do is meow, voice coated in exhausted bliss.

“Good kitten.” You purr a hum as you exhale, earning yourself a kiss from Tom in the middle of your back.

Eventually his skin stops stirring and he moves away. Your eyes open to study the slope of his body on the glass as he straightens back up on his knees, hips still on yours, and looks down at your middles. Thumb tracing the edges of your crack. When he presses on the underside of your stretched hole, you slant into the movement and his cock twitches inside.

“And now for the best part…”

You chuckle because you were expecting this. His two fantasies crammed into one, that’s got to be fantastic. Glancing around, you see the quiet balconies all around, the urban murmur in the background, and wonder how his heart is feeling right now. A grin grows on your face with no control. You rest your cheek on the chair so you can see him, either through the corner of your eye or on the glass.

“Drumroll please.”

Obeying yet another of his silly requests, you drizzle your fingers rhythmically on one of the legs of the chair, inhaling loudly when his body draws away. He slips out of you with a hiss.

First you shove your knees together the best you can and tilt your butt in the air so he’ll have a good view. You must look utterly ridiculous if seen from the outside, yet his delighted, nervous hum suggests otherwise. And if he likes what he’s seeing, you’re not allowed to disagree. You’re just not. Not when it’s his fantasy.

Both his hands spread your cheeks and he sniffles in concentration. The warmth on your skin might be from the sun as much as from his focused gaze. You don’t question it at all. Namely because you get interrupted by a thumb, his thumb, that distracts you in its soft back and forth on your butt cheek.

With a clench of your muscles, you try to expel whatever’s inside you out of your body and gasp, vigorously, when he shoves a finger back into you.

“Did that hurt?” he asks, voice tender and smooth like the cum you felt dribble out of you.

You shake your head in response, but realize that you can’t really due to your position. So you wipe your dry lips with a hot tongue and say, “No, just unexpected.”

“Sorry, love.”

You both smile at his softness, eyes meeting on the glass. Tom looks down again and squeezes your cheeks together. “Do that again.”

You push and from his inhale, you know what he’s seeing. You rest at last when his thumb caresses your lower lips, spreading hot cum around the sensitive skin.

“Again but slower,” he says, which doesn't make sense, but you try anyway. Try to apply less pressure on your next push.

“Stop stop stop,” he begs with a hiss, and you stop altogether, looking over your shoulder and admiring the view. He’s leaned over you, licking between your thighs over your pussy and across your butt, the white of his cum obvious on his tongue. He laps it up off your ass and crawls over you to feed it into your mouth, tongue draping over your teeth in cocky exhibition.

“Fucking delicious, ugh?” he claims with an ecstatic hum. You smile with your eyes closed at his warm voice.

Next, he moves back to the floor and sticks his thumb dryly into you, saying, “Lie on your back, love, please.”

You obey of course, even though it’s hard because of his thumb and the belt and the sweat on your skin that makes everything more slippery. When you’ve lied on your back, Tom helps you move your leg over his arm to the other side of him so that his finger won’t slip out from where it’s nestled at your entrance, keeping every bit of fluid inside. He settles your thighs to the width he desires, his face right in the middle smirking at you with a cheeky gaze in his eyes.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hi.” You grin. He smiles like in a prank and pulls his finger out with a wet noise.

You don’t feel much and you can’t see anything from where you are. Propping a foot on the chair, you try to analyze his expression, but it’s elated all over and you don’t see any differences that allow you to distinguish exactly what’s happening.

“Tell me,” you request with a whine. Tom glances up, then back between your legs, hand clasped around your thigh to keep you spread open and exposed for him. “Please tell me what you see, sir.”

He smiles his intricate smile and speaks slowly, like he’s ruminating on every word, weighing it, embracing its meaning and its flavor. He says, “There’s this beautiful ball of cum right at your entrance that’s just starting to drip down and it’s. So. Fucking. Ughnnnn.”

Tom bites into his lip. The hand on your knee squeezes around the bone.

There’s a breeze in the air and you clench inadvertently, feeling the wet slide down to your ass.

“There it goes, fuck it’s so beautiful,” he grins. With his cockhead, he collects it and pushes it back inside, settling in you and crawling over your body. He lies on top of you, his chest on your belly, leaving you clamped around his intrusion, almost delirious, on the verge of climax like only he could do.

“What are you doing?” you inquire, honestly curious at his reaction.

“Keeping you full of cum just for a little while,” he says, and you know he’s bragging from the tentative little thrusts of his hips that he grunts into you. Eyes closed in painful bliss.

You could swear you have a tiny orgasm on the spot. It’s barely noticeable, but there’s a shiver that surges through you, from your hole to your clit and all the way up. You grab on to Tom’s biceps and moan his name, clutching your thighs around him as the feeling tumbles through your belly and your chest. It dissolves there around your hammering heart.

Holding his weight above you with both hands on the chair, caging the sides of your torso, he pulls out again and rests his cock on the cleft of your thigh. It twitches a couple of times, coated in white.

“See what you do to me?” he says, looking up into your eyes. You nod and smile proudly. He responds in the same way, but moves upward to drop sweet kisses on your mouth.

“Thank you,” he purrs in nothing but pure delight. There’s no better word for the expression on his face. It radiates positive energy, self-realization, and gratification.

You caress his head with a gentle hand. “Who’s a good kitten now?”

Tom chuckles, his tummy trembling over yours where he lies on top of you, then he hums and purrs, “Meow.”

The giggle escapes you before you can stop it. He’s adorable. He just is. Especially in moments of euphoria such as these. With a kiss on his lips, you contemplate the shift of emotion in his face as he says, “I am so buying you that camcorder.”

You grin at his suggestion of moving on to one of your fantasies.

“And toys. I’m gonna buy so many fucking toys, I’ll shower you in them. Just tell me whatever you want,” Tom giggles. He freaking giggles at his own words. “I also remember you asking for a reprise of that fingering fest we had months ago, remember? So name your place, I’ll bring my fingers. It’ll be perfect.”

“We should do the penthouse again.”

Tom gasps at your suggestion. “Brilliant idea. I know just the place.” He leans in for a kiss, but he stops and perks up. “Oh, and I’ll bring the feathers and the wax, deal?”

You laugh at his sudden eagerness. “Deal.”

“‘Cause you deserve the fucking world, darlin’.”

“Nah, just you,” you reassure him with a kiss. Tom melts into it and slithers his tongue into your mouth.

The light wind of the fading afternoon whistles in your ear as Tom rests on you, your middles united as his cock deflates over your wet mound and he sighs with delicate content.

~ ⛳️ ~

fantasyverse masterpost « · » main masterlist

#mfl #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #fantasyverse #holland #b writes

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worldoftom · 2 years

Text

MFL Extra | Morning Pie [18+]

words : 2.7k

warnings : all smut, explicit warnings under the cut

b’s note » hey everyone! read this after chapter 13, it will help. it’s an alternate version for the morning in bed scene, starts in the middle of it and the end is pretty much the same after they finish. hope this makes up for the rest of chapter 13 :D!

series masterpost | main masterlist

explicit warnings : piv intercourse (riding), creampie

~ ⛳️ ~

“Was thinking I could maybe get what I didn’t finish yesterday? Hm? Would you like that?” he proposes cheekily, one of his legs darting up until his kneecap touches your crotch.

“You mean your mouth — this mouth,” you say, tracing around his lips, sticking a thumb inside. His tongue rolls seamlessly across the pad, eyes glimmering with the same mischief with which he wiggles his brow. “...on me right now?”

“Mhmm.” He smirks.

“Never gonna say no to that, champ.”

You caress the crown of his head and push on it as he starts moving downwards, your other hand on his shoulder letting go only when he reaches too far. Tom gets settled between your legs and kisses your mound over your undies, but you stop him.

“These come off. Gotta stop spending my poor paycheck on knickers,” you chuckle.

“I could buy you tons more,” he smiles that charming smile, kissing your belly and helping you tug the garment down your legs and off your feet, losing them somewhere in the sheets.

“You’re not my daddy, all right?” You scoff, making Tom chuckle and kiss under your navel. He glances up right after when you push the covers off of you as well.

“Don’t want anything in your line of sight again.”

Tom giggles, certainly remembering his predicament last night when he tried to do this on the couch but your dress was in the way. Your shoulders shake with a laugh as well, but soon you lose all senses to the sweet poke of his tongue down your slit.

He’s so careful with it, so attentive, lapping at every corner and every fold, using the pad of his tongue where he can and little licks of the tip where you’re panging the most. Finally sucking your clit into his mouth, Tom holds you down with both hands around your thighs. They stay spread and trembling from his ministrations of pleasure, the blissful sparkles bundling up on the small of your back where you lift it off the mattress to meet his face.

You hold the sheets beneath you at a particularly long caress from your entrance to the top, praying your body won’t play tricks on you, but his tongue dips inside your hole and you clench around the soft muscle, and suddenly your mind goes to shit so your body can do whatever it wants. And what it wants is to tug on Tom’s right hand, lace your fingers with him, and hold him there, tight, against your shivering belly as he hums loudly.

Out of instinct, you try to look between your legs and study the slope of his shoulders, but a little flick of his tongue out of you and past your swollen nub has you moaning and jerking bad enough that your head hits the pillow without regret.

“Fuck, Tom, so close,” you warn him between heavy pants, your chest filling with a buzz that crawls across your entire being.

Tom presses down on your fingers, clutches your thigh, and angles his head so that he’s fucking you with precise jabs of his tongue, soon moving to suck on your clit until all the lights go off in your head. One by one, they switch off and your body dissolves into nothing. The only thing that remains is the twist of bliss in your gut and the blood panging down to your sex as you come and moan and come some more under Tom’s dexterous tongue, legs closing in around his head.

By the time he spreads your thighs apart and smiles up at you, you hurl him up by the armpits and kiss the fuck out of his mouth. You wipe the slickness from his face, then straighten up against the headboard and stay turned to him, both sitting on the mattress, you in a t-shirt, Tom in his sleeping joggers, all the muscles of his chest on display. You grope them with erratic moves, going downward until you pull out his hard cock to hold it between his legs.

You break the kiss with a sharp inhale. “Handy, or should I sit on it?”

“Fuck,” he moans into your lips, sucking on them a little more. “I don’t think I can survive another— fuck.”

“Let’s see if you can survive another, shall we,” you say with a grin so vicious it splits your face into three.

Crawling onto Tom’s lap, you press your crotch over his and sway and rub over him until his head tilts back and you can kiss his neck, nipping it in several different spots. His hands lost on your back, soft short moans coming out of him as you peck and nip and lick every patch of skin you can find. Little by little, Tom distracted by your actions, you get up on your knees and grab his cock, holding it upright before you sink onto it and let gravity pull you down as he gasps.

Tom throws his head back again and whines, “Yeah, fuck, I can take this,” his mouth open around yours letting out a string of needy breaths. You shudder at their hotness, scrambling back to support both hands on his legs, rutting against him as much as you can, riding him hard, your back bent backwards, driving yourself crazy from the angle that has his cock brushing against your spot from the get go.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moans, both of his hands grabbing your waist to drive you up and down his dick at the speed he wants. You’re on top today, so there’s no way you’re going to let him take control. Fuck that.

So you push his shoulders until he’s lying on the bed, whole body stretched over the unruly sheets. One hand on his belly, the other behind you, you spread your legs as wide as you can and give him a perfect view of your cunt swallowing his cock. You change the angle so you can prop both feet on the mattress, wanting to use them to keep yourself upright. It’ll be easier to move then. Until you do, you sit still on his lap and watch Tom go fucking crazy from the lack of friction, having nothing but the clench of your walls to satisfy him.

“Please you have to fucking move,” he begs, and you could listen to his desperation on loop for the rest of your life. It crawls pleasure and need all over your own skin.

Once you’re ready, feet on the bed and a hand on his stomach, you drag your hips up and then down, slowly at first, gaining speed with every guttural moan he emits. Your legs are spread open and his eyes never leave your middles, enthralled by the stretch of your lips around his hard length. You gasp a little at the burn and fullness of it, this angle a little foreign since it’s been so long since you’ve been on top like this. It’s uncomfortable, the muscles on your legs whining from the effort, but it’s totally worth it just so you can see his face.

It’s contorted in absolute bliss, growing spots of red on his cheeks just under where his lashes rest on them. He’s beautiful and sensual, the twinkle of the sweat starting to pool on his collarbones. You want to lick it off of him, just so you can be closer to him, but now it’s not the time.

Another idea hits you instead. You force your hips down and roll them around, Tom whining under you and grasping both hands around your ass, trying to make you move. “Faster, move, c’mon, baby girl, ride my fucking cock.”

“I’m on it, relax, champ,” you taunt him, leaning over him and catching his mouth, but what follows is so much more than just a kiss. It’s tongue and teeth and hot breath, it’s Tom trying to hold your face against his, then once more trying to get your hips to move over his cock. Anything to seek the grand pleasure you so badly want him to achieve.

Before you do so, you have to pull off of him.

“Fucking hell, fuck, where the fuck—” he pants and whines before he bites on your bottom lip. “Where you fucking going?”

“Just gonna turn around, watch this,” you offer him with a hard kiss on his lips. When you pull away, you have to move fast or you know he’s going to buck up and slide his cock into your cunt without even thinking. He’s too eager right now, but you have him in the palm of your hand.

You slide off his lap and pump his cock with a hand, turning around so your back and your ass is to him, knowing he will love what’s to come. His cock is bursting with want, hard and leaking and twitching at every touch, so you know this will be quite fast. Which is why it has to be fucking perfect. It has to be the right angle so he’ll lose his mind on this lovely morning.

“Fucking look at me, Tom,” you demand when you find him with his eyes closed and his hands fisted around the bedding.

His eyes open immediately, widening at the sight. You’re sitting on him yet again, moving slower so he won’t miss a thing. Swallowing his cock with your pussy, your ass tipped back and two hands holding the cheeks apart. It must look fucking ugly from the side, but his face tells you everything you need to see. He’s down for this, and he’s down bad.

“That’s so fucking beautiful,” he moans, eyes squinting closed when you sit fully on his lap and clench around him. His eyebrows crease like he’s in pain, mouth open around a gasp as his chest convulses and arches off the bed.

Your own body is starting to feel the weight of the pleasure, a coil of emotion curling at the bottom of your gut, electrified when you restart moving over him. Faster now, so much goddamn faster, legs burning with it and your head swimming. You ride his cock like it’s your life mission, the one thing you’re meant to be doing right now and forever. When your hands go numb where you’re supporting your own weight, your hips snap forward and you sink back down and lift in the same second, going over and over and over again, sinking further and further on his lap, watchful of how his face distorts and clears, eyes unfocused and filled with want.

You can feel when it happens, when his body bucks up and collapses back on the bed, when his hands fist around your hips and tug you closer and closer to him with each thrust. He holds you up for a second and fucks up into you frantically, gasping and moaning your name like a spell, almost making you topple over between his bent legs.

“Gonna— come—” he stutters, and you take that as your cue. You press a hand on his chest so he’ll stay down, then force both hands on his knees so he won’t move, and start hiking your own hips to ride his cock with purpose. It hits in all the right spots inside you and you almost lose it in the moment, but then you notice it.

The moment Tom thrashes under you, and he groans in broken words, and his cock swells and pulsates between your tight walls. And then he comes with a muffled shout of your name. You slam his body back onto the mattress and milk him out, riding with all your might, trying so damn hard not to let the electricity climb up to your brain. This is his moment.

“Oh my—” he moans and groans, grabbing you by the waist and shoving his dick into you, holding you steady. You stop and sit comfortably on his lap, relaxing your legs to see if they’ll stop hurting.

His face is smoothed by pleasure now, mouth breathing open and his eyes closed in satiation, but his hands crawl all over your back, one going up to your shoulder blades and the nape of your neck, the other going past the waist towards the front, sinking between your legs. He finds your clit in the dark and starts giving it little flicks, but you can’t do much with that, it’s useless, absolutely pointless, so you cover his hand with yours and give his fingers the speed that makes it happen.

Your eyes close of their own accord and your lashes feel sweaty and heavy on your cheeks, as you stroke your own pussy with his and your hands together as one. You move your hips in uneven circles to seek the high, but it doesn’t take long. One, two swipes and your brain shuts off, your vision goes blank and your body goes pliant and rigid at the same time, shaking frantically like a leaf where you’re sitting over Tom.

Behind you, he curses you and your cunt, blaming it on being too tight, hips fighting to get you off his lap. Yet you press back down and ride it out on his finger, rolling around and clenching everywhere, his cock buried deep inside you. Your sweet spot is so inflated from the pleasure that it shoots up bursts of light straight into your head. The orgasm rolls down your legs and off you feet, and you collapse over him, both hands between his legs now, letting Tom rub your clit a few more times at a soothing pace.

You sit there for a long time, twirling your hips slowly and listening to his whines. Because you know what’s going to happen if you move. And you want to do this right.

It takes Tom a little while before his eyes can open and focus, and you’re there watching him over your shoulder when they do. You smile at him and he smiles back, faintly, resting his head on the pillow until his breathing slows to a normal rhythm.

“That was so fucking hot,” he tells you. You lean forward and drop a kiss on his leg to tell him you feel the same way.

Still, you say, “No, this is so fucking hot.”

And then you start moving your hips up.

You’ve been feeling strings of wet falling out of you for a while now, so you know what he’ll see as soon as your hips lift from his lap. His cock is lathered in white, his cum and your cum, mixed together in a mess of fluids that glide all the way down onto his crotch.

Tom looks up at you briefly with his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes immediately flicking back to your middles. His hands grab your waist and he helps you move up, slowly slipping his cock out of you. You stop right at the top, just the head inside you now. The river of white continues to flow southward, following the gravity and giving Tom everything he fucking dreamed off. Eventually his cock drops to his belly, a blob of cum falling and slithering down to his balls.

“Two in a day, uh?” you tease him with a smirk. Tom smirks right back and lets go of you, your body falling over him with a slap from the lack of support.

“‘Tis fucking beautiful,” he says, grabbing you by the side of your neck and pulling so you’ll turn to him again.

You’re all wet and sticky and smelly from the cum, but you’re so satiated that you couldn’t care less about it. With your heart hammering in your chest, Tom reels you closer and captures your mouth into a dizzying kiss. When it’s over and he cradles your jaw in a tender gesture, you let yourself lay back onto the pillows, Tom following shortly after, cock deflating against your thigh as he hovers over you.

He looks gorgeous like this, the bright bedside lamp illuminating his features in all the right places, like the reddening tip of his nose, or his crooked grin, the corner of his mouth when he closes in and captures yours into another kiss.

~ ⛳️ ~

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#mfl #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #holland #b writes

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